Best Line Of Work Poems
I: in the 70s
At sixteen, looking through a magazine,
I came across the picture of a girl
whose character was Mary Ellen in
“The Waltons” show I watched on Thursday nights.
Her look was that of mine when I made up
my face and styled my hair a certain way.
It gave me pleasure seeing someone who
was somewhat famous - looking just like me!
And so I clipped that picture out and saved
it in a scrapbook of my memories.
II: in the 80s
Inside a bank I stood in line one day.
Ahead of me I saw a child who stood
beside a woman and I felt a shock.
The little girl looked like my five-year-old.
In fact, she looked so much like Angela,
I had to ask the lovely lass her name,
ascertaining that kid was not my own!
How very strange to see a thing like that.
III: in the 90’s
My husband had a doppleganger who
lived somewhere in our own vicinity,
for three times Joe was in a hardware store
and was approached by people thinking he
was someone else, a framer too, it seems.
I wish that Joe had learned this fellow’s name
and wonder if today they look same
and if his look-alike was also forced
to find another line of work to do!
IV: in the new millennium
I also have a doppleganger in
this area. A few times I’ve been told
I look just like another woman, but
the time that made me feel sixteen again
was when my chiropractor told me that
the structure of my face and how I looked
was like Mcdonnell’s, star in the best film
of Kevin Costner‘s. She had played a Sioux.
Her name is Mary, like the character
I thought I’d looked liked from the Walton show!
V: now
I have a doppleganger here at Soup,
except we do not look that much alike.
She’s fairly young and I am (almost) old,
but nearly everything she says to me
reminds me of myself; however, she
writes free verse and is wackier than me!
She’s more my doppleganger spiritually,
and if you cannot guess who she might be,
I’ll give a clue: she likes to change her name
here at the Soup, a thing I doubt I’d do!
For Matt Caliri's Doppelgangers contest
You’re selling drugs to your own people; you’re like a terrorist bomb
but twice as lethal.
Do you really think it’s a lasting career? You blame “the man” but it’s
you we all fear!
You say that you’re making plenty of cash, but are you willing to die
for your poisonous stash?
You have so many excuses for destroying the community, but you’re
part of the reason that there is no unity.
You think you’re taking the easy way out, you’ll be dead or in
prison without a doubt.
I know you understand exactly what I’m saying, I at least got you
thinking I’m hoping and praying.
It’s time to start thinking before you act, if you make the wrong
decision there’s no turning back.
What happened to your desire to be successful? Your line of work
is way too stressful!
Worrying about getting robbed, killed or busted, your friends and
clients can never be trusted.
Is this a skill you would teach to your children? The revolving door
turns again and again.
Drug dealing skills passed generation to generation, causing
widespread neighborhood and community deterioration.
You say: “I have to do what I have to do!” But what are you going to
do when they come for you?
Yes eventually you will get caught; you were so untouchable at least
you once thought.
Is Drug Dealer a title you hold with pride? So what you have cash,
gold and a nice ride!
Everything you own can be gone in an instant, now you’re
incarcerated wanting to repent.
Being successful can bring lots of joy, but you’ll never be successful
being a “Dope Boy.”
They formed a posse and it was loaded
Three experienced at tracking
And their guide
He was a one-legged kangaroo
No one dared to waltz with him
Even Matilda kept clear
The heat was unbearable
Australia
And no one liked bank robbers
Crossing upstream the three rode through rapids
One horse was bitten by a bee
It startled him and reared
Throwing the third rider into the rapids
One scream and carried downstream
The other two rode the banks and the rapid
And their one legged kangaroo hopped
One hop forward but always angles
They came to a suddenly quiet pool
They saw a hat that was clear
The horse whinnied and a single tear
The kangaroo was exhausted and thought of a new line of work
His master lay face down and floated
The three horses gazed at the floater
And the two men followed their lead
And what about the bank robbers
They had a pint
A Lil' Bit of Aus... Free Poetry Contest
Sponsor Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
I call her name in my sleep
No, not this day
The gods won't let me be
Death will be my escape
From all the madness
All this madness from dreams
No, not this day
They won't leave me at peace
I call out to her from my sleep
I reach for her, and she is there
My comfort zone, I pull her close
It calms me to no end.
She says nothing even though I know
I've pulled her away from her lucid dreams
again ~ I need her, my angel of light
It's true, I need her there to save me
Save me from dreams of the grave
I'm standing closer every time I sleep
She is the only one who saves me from this fate
From falling into this grave I dug for me.
7/15/2000 my X used to have dreams of his grave,,,, he was always waking me, must have been his line of work.
I worked in a bowlin' place settin' pins,
Tryin' not to let a ball break my shins!
In those days of yore, pins were set by hand,
And you had to hustle to beat the band!
I was around fourteen when I was hired,
And was around fourteen when I was fired!
The boss man paid me fifty cents per hour,
'Til one night our relationship went sour!
I advised him where he could stuff the job!
Said he, "Find another line of work, Bob!"
Couldn't face workin' there 'til I retired.
Found work pumpin' gas when I was rehired!
8 November 2014 - Entry for Sara Hendrick's "Jobs" Contest
LINES
We LINE up in traffic, or clear out the door,
And there are BEELINES we make, to the seashore.
Get mad and we're "DRAWING A LINE IN THE SAND,"
He USES A LINE when he asks for her hand.
You're in A LINE OF WORK, it's where you can shine:
LINEBACKERS, LINE EDITORS, and TECHIES ONLINE.
You're in the CHORUS of a big Broadway play,
Or dancing in LINES with the CORPS DE BALLET.
I'll "DROP YOU A LINE," when you're on vacation,
Get there by CRUISE LINE to your destination.
Fly on an AIRLINE, but you cannot fly straight,
In crossing a BORDERLINE, COASTLINE, or State.
In HEADLINES, OUTLINES, or given the GUIDELINES,
We calculate "READING BETWEEN ALL THOSE LINES."
DEADLINES and TIMELINES we must try to meet,
In interviews for FRONTLINE of the man on the street.
She is dressed to the nines, with the highest HEMLINE,
And her jeans are drying on a breezy CLOTHESLINE.
The kids throw their sneakers to the TELEPHONE LINES,
They're outside and swimming, their TAN LINES are signs.
CUT IN THE LINE, CROSS A LINE, this may give you trouble,
Especially the LINES that are yellow and double.
You don't want to FLATLINE, when you become very ill,
But you will, when you see LINES from your itemized bill.
There are the Maths that are used for LINES X, Y, and Z,
And a BASELINE to measure what we're trying to see.
We may draw PARALLEL LINES with our ruler in place,
These LINES actually meet when they curve out in space.
Then there's games with LIFELINES, we try not to burn,
There's LINES FROM A SCRIPT that we try hard to learn.
LINES READ in poetry, played in music, sung in song,
It's the memorized beauty of the gifts passed along.
Whatever THE LINE IS, that we find most adoring,
It's NOT keeping the order we find so abhorring.
We humans are LINEAR in most of our thinking,
It's the CIRCLES and CURVES that'll drive us to drinking.
By Edlynn Nau
© February 9, 2016
THE RIDE
I got a horse named Sam, a dog named Joe,
and my old Chevy truck.
In the front of my trailer is my saddle and bridle
with a horseshoe thrown in for luck.
Got my bedroll and boots, one change of clothes,
just enough money for gas.
I’m on my way to the next rodeo,
so Darlin’, I think I’ll pass
Your kind invitation to hang around here,
and take up a new line of work
That wouldn’t involve breakin’ my bones.
To refuse makes me sound like a jerk.
But listen a moment to what’s in my heart,
and maybe you’ll understand
Why I keep on ridin’ them wild buckin’ broncs
while lookin’ for a soft place to land.
When I was eighteen I thought about gettin’ a job
and workin’ from nine to five.
But I couldn’t find anything I could do
that would keep me feelin’ alive.
Now it’s twenty years later and I ain’t got much
to show for the years in between.
But it don’t matter when I get to the gate,
‘cause it starts all over again.
I hear the roar of the rodeo crowd.
I smell the dust risin’ high in a cloud.
And there’s a thrill that starts to tickle my veins
when I hear them start to call out the names.
I know that soon I’m gonna be out there.
Win or lose, I’m not gonna care,
‘cause all I wanna do is make The Ride.
It’s all about The Ride.
Sent down from Heaven, their jobs are sure tough
But they don’t fly away when the going gets rough
They rise to the challenge to bring back wonder and hope
Failure does not happen in their line of work
Cuz’ Angels, no Angels, they don’t sing the blues
Angels sing strong from the high mountain tops
Sometimes it’s a rock song to wake spirits up
Sometimes it’s a ballad when babies must sleep
Or a love song in country that just makes you weep
But Angels, no Angels, don’t sing the blues
They work behind the scenes to enlighten world faith
Always there when you need’em, our Heavenly base
They make house calls to heal another broken heart
Gatekeepers to the soul, they lighten the dark
The sky is the limit as only Angels can know
When times are a troubling, their first on the scene
Not afraid to help out or even dirty their wings
The tune that they dance to, comes from Heaven above
Giving rhythm and gospel to everyone they love
Cuz’ Angels, no Angels, they don’t sing the blues
And you know Angels can’t read music,
but they sure wing it well
As they learn from the Almighty,
Who swings with, the heartbeat of humanity,
From Heavens high hill
Angels sing strong from the high mountain tops
Sometimes it’s a rock song to wake spirits up
Sometimes it’s a ballad when babies must sleep
Or a love song in country that just makes you weep
But Angels, no Angels, don’t sing the blues
They just don’t sing the blues
No, Angels don’t sing the blues
Angels don’t sing the blues
Lord hear my prayer.
I pray for the families in Nashville Tennesse,
who just lost precious family members...
Mike Hill (61), Katherine Koonce (60), Cynthia Peak, (61)
Evelyn Dieckhaus (9), Hallie Scruggs (9), and William Kinney (9).
Please be with their families and give them healing,
and peace knowing their precious souls are with you now.
This isn't goodbye... It's see you again.
Father, I pray for The Covenant School.
For those kids and families that attend there
that you would give them peace as well
and protect them and all those who were involved in this event.
I praise you Father that those officers acted quickly and stopped the
shooter and that nobody else was killed.
. Please protect the police as they are in a dangerous line of work.
I pray for our nation that you would protect us from any harm,
and that more people get to know you
That those who are lost will find your light and want to be with you,
to spend eternity with you Lord.
I pray these things in your holy name,
Amen.
I must have one of those faces
or maybe people just assume
that because I'm quiet
I must be a good listener, because
wherever I go- they find me
The talkers, the sad, the lonely
the frustrated, the depressed
the I-just-don't-know-what-to-dos
Like the nameless young woman
who hailed me like a cab
in the gas station parking lot
to tell me that she's pregnant
just found out today
and there's no way
she's having it because
she just had a baby
about a month ago
her husband doesn't even know
yet, and she's so upset!
Or like the produce guy at the grocery store
who suddenly told me he's not speaking
to his brother anymore
after last night's drunken fight...
Or the customer I barely knew
who cried on my shoulder
telling me how, since she's gotten
older- her husband doesn't
love her anymore
then asked me to say a prayer
right then and there
assuming for some reason
that I knew what to do
so I held her hand
and fumbled and bumbled my
awkward way through...
Or the co-workers calling me
all hours of day and night
with their various plights
bedroom problems I don't want to hear-
“Have you ever tried telling
your husband this, dear?”
Random people, random problems
maybe ignorance really is bliss?!
Or maybe I'm in the wrong line of work-
'cause I could get paid for this...
*Image of Cherokee Piper, Four-seater single engine by Wilkie.
Lifetime Get-A-Way, A Survivors Tale
It is nineteen-eighty new years eve in less than two days,
that said--this turned a fourteener syllabic lined poem,
fourteener set of rhyming-lined poems--to paraphrase,
I had worked with his wife long before I got to know him.
Now Ruby carried on but stayed in the same line of work.
We kept in touch ever since I purchased her dad's cabin.
She said her ardent pilot spouse needed an hourly perk.
As he already owned the plane we just need some gas in.
Fundamentally, Alan purchased, Cherokee Piper,
Four-seater single engine without a pilot license,
Probable in California, but naught a car ... harder,
He's flying days only, that induces a lot of sense?
Our itinerary is, Livermore, California,
to Barstow, California--a hole, fill-up only then,
The Grand Canyon to Ruby's hotel chain, euphoria,
Cliffside cabin, wine & dine and film at Rangers station.
Phoenix, Alan's cop friend drove us to Scottsdale to my Suite
Hilton, north to a western town, rode a stagecoach, ad-lib
gunfighter, now west side Phoenix restaurant, Pinnacle's meet
New Year's Eve, no fireworks, just booze and b.b.q. rib bib
Sedona, Hopi purchased--slight loop, Meteor Crater,
Skirted unique Monument Valley, Vegas as nightfalls,
Hotel gratis tix-Music Man w/Dick Van Dyke, and dinner,
Livermore, seven p.m., sun greets us ... S.F. bay crawls.
The drive to my San Francisco home, bout a hundred miles,
The plane gas bill arrived little under nine hundred bucks,
Never stepped on a wing to board a plane--at me, Dick smiles,
Grand, Sedona, Monument, Vegas, Phoenix, again, *shucks!
2022 January 29
*9th Place*
MY FAVORITE VACATION IN RHYME
~~L MILTON HANKINS: Judged 2022 February 04
*Held hopes but it never happened again as we all moved on in life.
We last saw him in the summer of '78.
Our ministry with kids had closed,
and we were being reassigned to a
church 2000 miles away. Little did
I know that we would ever see John
again.
My wife and I had not forgotten John or any
of the kids that we grew to love and treasure
during the 4 years we spent sharing Christ with
them. However, we never imagined that there would
be a spiritual reconnection on this side of heaven.
As it turned out, John went on a search and found
us on Facebook. He never realized that about a
year prior, we had moved back to within 100 miles
from where we were 45 years ago.
Long story short, a few months ago, he made contact,
informing us that he was one of the kids with whom
we worked more than 40 years ago. We took them all
to church each Sunday in a little blue van.
John has been pastoring for 20 years in the same
community we were in when he was a kid. Who knew?
He has invited me to speak next Sunday which is
Father's Day.
In my journeys through this pilgrim land, there were
times when I felt like a failure. It is stories like John's
that remind me that we are not failures in the work
of God. I tell you, in my line of work, it doesn't
get much better than this. I am highly elated,
very grateful, and deeply honored.
1P
The Flowers of Fall
On the road to Bolequeime on the way to
the German supermarket that sells proper Teutonic sausages
autumnal blossom flowers sit on white plastic chairs
high heels and shorts
Sometimes a car stops, no, not the man in a white van
usually, it is a big car with dark windows a business man on
The way to the office. A quick blow-jobs nothing much else
to do in a car and no need to undress.
The flowers have water which they drink from after a job
in this line of work, no one smells the roses
They used in the summer gone look exotic on the beach and
clubs but only pensioners are here now and they walk
slowly in the sand, so they trek inland like beautiful weed by
the roadside and the dust of passing cars.
The roses look nice in falls light if you remember what love is
you’ll not find it here by the verge they only sell despondency
Well, I woke up this morning
Put my blue jeans on
Drank my morning coffee
Answered the telephone
Had another assignment
Another body had to die
No need to ask what for
It was my trades I go by
My skills are all they wanted
The pay was plenty enough
Just eliminate the problem
Play nice or play rough
My excitement gathered round me
My nerves calmed at last
Got into my vette
Cause that sucker was real fast
Rat’s I cried aloud
The battery was dead
I ranted and I raved
And then I scratched my head
The Volvo had to do
I was running out of time
No problem that I stole it
Just cause it wasn’t mine
The highway I left behind
The morning was almost gone
Then I heard the ring
Of my pink and yellow cell phone
Hello was my only word
Changed plans was all he said
That lucky so and so
Should really be glad
The police stopped and cuffed me
A stolen car I had
They took away my weapons
That was my bad
Serving time in the can
Gonna get out one day
Better find another line of work
Is what the fellows say
Free at last from this prison
I shook the filth off my skin
Headed for the southland
Gotta find me some kin
Well, I woke up this morning
Put my old blue jeans on
Drank my morning java
Answered the telephone
Had another assignment
Another body had to die
No need to ask what for
It was my trades I go by
Love this life I’m living
And the pay that’s flowing in
Yep I’m right back where I started
When I was sent to the pen
HEART OF A GOOD WIFE:
Don't ever nag that she grew wild,
I'm blunt to say this,so be assured.
And no more can you treat her bad.
Absolutely, she's now matured.
Frankly, she possess all the qualities,
That filled your home with tranquillity.
All your friends cherishes her might.
They obviously wish for her kind.
Yet,you kept handling her without care,
And what made you cheat on her?
Perhaps, you thought she wasn't aware,
As you're been swamped by an affair,
With those filthy promiscuous women,
Who ruins the peace of married men.
So never accept to say she changed,
Because you really made her enraged.
She's always a good woman in your life,
Who supports you as a noble wife.
But you caused her life to be fouled,
By decaying those words you vowed,
On the ceremonial day of your union.
Thank God she's spiritually moving on.
Though, you failed to fence her with love,
In order for both of you to be sound.
She intervenes for you with prayers,
For you to succeed in your line of work.
But you made her feel very despaired,
Without trying hard to put her first.
Now that she'd left and is happy in life,
She still pray for you every night.
But you sit all day lamenting sadly,
Over those wreckers acts of insanity.
Your businesses have totally collapsed,
And your individuality has relapsed,
Thence you struggle hard to survive,
As the one who holds you down is gone.
Therefore you wish to clear all your wrongs,
So you're tirelessly asking her to come back.
Just to get yourself right on track...
But it's fine you're turning a new page,
To reform your union with new phase.
Wishing you the best of luck....I'm out!